


Sentiment

by WritLarge



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Yondu is a whistling badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter had always thought of Yondu as being invincible. The all-seeing, vicious pirate captain that no one would dare cross. He’d certainly never seen anyone try.</p><p>That changed when he was thirteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> Some violence, but not too graphic or detailed I think... Tagged just in case.

Peter had always thought of Yondu as being invincible. The all-seeing, vicious pirate captain that no one would dare cross. He’d certainly never seen anyone try.

That changed when he was thirteen.

He sometimes wondered if Yondu had seen it coming. Let the mutineers plot away, waiting and watching to see which members of his crew would be swayed by the upstart. Later he would be told that the coup had been in the works for nearly two years before the traitors had tried to kill the captain. If Yondu had seen it coming, he hadn’t known exactly when or he’d never have been injured the way he was.

Peter pressed his hands against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. Yondu was laid out on the floor, gripping his wrist with one hand so tightly it hurt, but he wasn’t looking at Peter. He was too focused on controlling his attack. Peter had timed the whistling before. The longest stretch had been almost three minutes. He had no idea how long it had been since Yondu was stabbed, but the whistling was constant. He was doing his best to focus on applying pressure and not the now pale grey-blue of the captain’s skin or the chorus of screams echoing through the room.

He knew it was safe when the whistling stopped, because Yondu hadn’t passed out - he'd paused.

“You all right, son?” Peter looked at the injured man with undisguised amazement. Was he okay? Yondu was the one with his blood all over the fucking console.

“Me?” 

“Yes, you.” Why he wasn’t angry, Peter couldn’t fathom. The assholes who’d carried out the actual assassination attempt had used Peter as a distraction. He hadn’t even realized what was happening until Yondu had kicked back Raldor and a bloody knife had flashed past Peter’s face. He’d always been good on his feet though, keeping his head when things went to shit, even Horuz thought so and he hated Peter. 

“I’m fine, you dumbass,” he answered. If Peter had been able to move his hands, he would have punched him. Minor violence was a fairly typical way of showing affection for a bunch of pirates. “You’re the one bleeding all over everything. I’m not cleaning it up either.” 

“Sure you are,” Yondu chuckled. “You’re already a bloody mess anyway.”

“You’re such a dick,” he sniped weakly.

“Yeah, but I ain’t dead.” That he was not. Peter took a moment to glance around the room and saw nothing but still bodies. Where the hell were the others? Where was Kraglin? Had they killed him already? “Don’t worry too much.”

“What?”

“The fuckers waited,” Yondu grimaced, apparently reading Peter’s concerns easily despite the pain he must be in. “Kraglin’s planetside today. Not sure about the others. Must’ve lured’em off somehow or maybe jammed the galley doors part way through meals. Yeah. They’ll be up here soon enough.”

That was right. It was mealtime. Peter had been avoiding it today because they’d brought up live spider-beetle-things to serve fresh and no way in hell was he eating that. He learned to like a lot of strange food, but even he had his limits.

“Peter.” He looked down at Yondu, whose gaze struck him sharply. His wrist ached where Yondu grasped it. “This is why we don’t get soft. None of that sentimental shit, you understand?”

It took him a moment, but then it clicked. The mutineers, they’d used Peter as a distraction, but then they’d shoved him aside. He was small and unthreatening and generally regarded as mostly useless. If they’d thought for a second that Yondu had been at all attached to Peter, he’d have been a hostage or a much bigger distraction with his guts spilled out over the bridge floor. Peter had tried getting closer to Yondu when he’d been younger. Yondu had refused to let the crew eat him, a threat that Peter had never been convinced wasn’t real despite what others had said. While the captain hadn’t been gentle or sympathetic, he had made sure that Peter learned how to survive, sometimes even teaching him himself. The one time he'd stuttered out his thought that Yondu might be his dad, come to get him like his mother had said, Yondu had laughed and crushed the idea. Still, he was the closest thing to a father that Peter had ever had.

“I understand,” he nodded.

“Good.” Yondu closed his eyes and the room grew quiet, with only the sound of their breathing alongside the soft hum of the ship. Peter had never seen him look so still. He was always moving, threatening, planning, laughing… He tried hard not to let the fear and dread well up any further than the lump that was wedged in his throat.

He couldn’t tell the time, whether it had been minutes or hours, but eventually pounding footsteps vibrated across the floor with Horuz and a handful of others coming into view. Peter had never been so glad to see the man.

“What the hell took you so long?” shouted Yondu, eyes now open and blazing. “Do I have to do everything myself on this goddamned ship?” 

The crew scrambled to pull corpses out of the way. Deneel had a medkit and crouched down next to Peter, dark brown fingers quickly assessing just how badly the captain was wounded. He tore away the clothing around where Peter’s hands met Yondu’s flesh. Horuz threw himself into the chair and checked the ship’s status. 

“Get out of the way and let them work, boy,” Yondu snapped at him, his hand briefly squeezing Peter’s wrist before releasing him. Peter looked up at Deneel for confirmation. He wasn’t going to move and let Yondu bleed out now.

“On three. One, two… three.” Peter pulled back quickly and Deneel slid a gluepad into place against Yondu’s side, temporarily sealing the wound. Shoved back against the wall by the others, he watched as the crew lifted the captain up and carried him away to the healing bay.

“Quill! Go get something to clean this mess up,” Horuz peered back over his shoulder.

Peter nodded shakily. What he really wanted was to strip off his damp clothes and hide in his bunk, but that would have to wait. He forced himself to stand and pushed off the wall, taking a deep breath. Shit.

“Don’t fall over, kid. You did all right.” He gaped at where Horuz sat. Seriously? The unexpected praise was almost enough to tip him over into tears. The grudging respect didn’t last long, though. “Stop standing there get moving, brat. Once this crap dries, it’ll take forever to get off.”

Peter took another breath and got to work.


End file.
